For ten years, Fang Yuan did not harvest a single soul. He drifted in the orbit of Sol-Primus, invisible to the telescopes and spiritual senses of the lesser cultivators below. He sat in a state of Temporal Meditation, where one hour of the universe's time equaled a year in his accelerated mind.
He spent the first three years mastering "Spatial Folding." He practiced by taking a single grain of space-dust and "looping" it, creating a miniature prison where the dust fell forever but never moved. He realized that distance was an illusion created by the weak to explain their limitations.
By the fifth year, he unlocked "Temporal Echo Sight." He looked back at the history of the galaxy, watching the rise and fall of civilizations like a fast-forwarded film. He saw that he wasn't the first to reach this realm, but he was the first to do it by consuming a "Reincarnation Essence."
During the final years, he used his System to scan the deeper layers of the Multiverse. He learned of the Galactic Overlords—entities who didn't just walk through space, but owned it. He learned of the Reality Erasers, who could delete a star with a thought. And he heard whispers of the Eternal Void, the 9th Realm, a state he now craved more than life itself.
"The Space-Time Weaver is but a scout," Fang Yuan mused, his body now almost completely translucent, pulsing with indigo veins of pure Aether. "I have spent ten years learning the map. Now, it is time to take the first territory."
He looked down at Sol-Primus. The ten years of peace he gave them was not mercy; it was to let the "crops" grow thicker.
"System," he commanded, his voice vibrating through the vacuum. "End the meditation. Deploy the Spatial Net. Let the Second Harvest begin."